


Everyone Hooks Up at Weddings

by sucker_for_a_romcom



Series: squared herself away as she let out a yell [4]
Category: Glee
Genre: Episode: s04e14 I Do, Friendship, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-11
Updated: 2014-03-11
Packaged: 2018-01-15 10:10:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1301122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sucker_for_a_romcom/pseuds/sucker_for_a_romcom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The morning after Mr Schue is jilted by Ms. Pillsbury, Mercedes runs into Santana in a coffee shop and girls learn about each other's nights.<br/>Sancedes friendship one-shot. Mentions of Quinntana and Mikecedes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everyone Hooks Up at Weddings

Mercedes swung her car haphazardly into a space and threw it in park before heading straight into The Lima Press. Honestly, the coffee was no where near as good as in The Lima Bean but it wasn’t open yet, not even being 8am on Sunday, and she was going to need some kind of caffeine to get through this day, so she would take what she could get.

She wasn’t checking the line, too busy checking her phone, but when the person in front ordered she immediately recognised the voice. She cringed; wanting to avoid any conversations right now but knowing it was too late to get away and seconds later Santana was turning around to face her.

“Wheezy.” It was a gruff greeting and it came from behind dark glasses despite the grey morning. Mercedes also noticed that Santana seemed to be wearing her red dress from yesterday under a big Yale hoodie.

“Hangover, Satan?”

“You have no idea.” Mercedes placed her order and Santana dumped 5 packets of sugar in her delivered coffee.

“Can you believe it really happened? Miss Pillsbury walking out?” She didn’t mean to start a conversation. Santana was actually looking pre-occupied and getting out of there without any discussion of yesterday was for the best, but Mercedes’ head was still a little spun out at the jilting.

“I’m being forced to believe _all kinds of things_ this week.” Mercedes didn’t get a chance to ask what that meant before the Barista was back.

“And a skinny Green Tea Frappuccino.” Mercedes did not have the time for any nonsense this morning and was about to ream out the girl for getting her order wrong (did she look like she drank skinny green tea _anything_ ) when Santana slid the cup towards herself. Then memories of pregnancy craving late-night runs were flashing through her mind.

“That’s Quinn’s drink.” Santana shifted guiltily and actually looked briefly uncomfortable.

“Well if she wakes up while I’m gone then I better have something for her when I get back.”

“Wakes up? What are you-”

“It seems that college has made Quinn curious about clam bakes,” Santana interrupted. Mercedes was entirely confused for a few seconds until she saw Santana’s face settle into a pursed-lipped expression of defiance. She felt her jaw drop and looked again at the Yale sweatshirt Santana was sporting.

“No, Quinn isn’t…” Mercedes shook her head in incredulity. Not knowing how put into words how bizarre this morning was turning out to be.

“I’m telling you the truth.” Mercedes still wasn’t convinced and it obviously showed on her face. “Oh, come on. You watched her give birth. You must have noticed that mole riiiight by her pu-” Oh Lord.

“STOP. You, Santana Lopez, are telling me that you, _Santana Lopez_ ,” Mercedes took a quick look around and dropped her voice “had **sex** with _Quinn Fabray_?”

Santana licked foam from the rim of her coffee lid and grinned like she was the Devil himself.

*

By the time Mercedes drink was delivered her head was still spinning but Santana quickly snapped her out of it. Pushing her sunglasses up on top of her head and eyeing Mercedes closely.

“Since when do you leave the house without your hair done?” Santana nodded to the silk scarf Mercedes had wrapped round her head, peeking out from under her winter hat. Oh yeah, _this_ was why she was avoiding a conversation.

“Well, I’m actually on my way to the Salon right now.”

“Wow. Diva much? I know you got your hair done for the wedding. You’re seriously getting it done _again_ , today, just to sit on a plane for 5 hours?”  
Mercedes worked extremely hard at keeping a straight face as she focused on her drink but couldn’t help her gaze slip to the side and away from Santana’s squint.  
“Hold up.” Santana gasped. “It got messed up.” Damn that girl and her nose for gossip. “Someone messed it up. Meaning someone got nasty while you were **doing** the nasty.”

“I don’t think so.” Mercedes said while trying to laugh it off. “I’ll, umm, see you around Santana.” She carefully scooted round Santana and quickly shuffled out of the door. She made it two steps into the parking lot when Santana jumped to block her path, suddenly energised with an expression that screamed a wicked delight with the situation. “Santana; MOVE. I have places to be.”

“Oh my God. It’s someone I know, isn’t it.” Mercedes pursed her lips and stared Santana down, not daring to move a muscle in her face. But the other girl’s eyes were still twinkling. “It’s someone from Glee.” Mercedes rolled her eyes and tried to get past once again. Santana stepped in her way again, smirk still in place, until all of a sudden her face went slack with a brief look of dawning, followed by the widest, nastiest smile Mercedes had ever seen.

She took the opportunity to dart around and head to her car. She almost made it too, when Santana’s bitchiest Cheerios voice cut across the parking lot.

“Michael. Chang.”

Mercedes froze. How was this happening? She had just stopped off to get coffee. She took a deep breath and slowly turned around to find Santana leaning on one hip with her arms crossed over her chest, one eyebrow raised to the heavens.

“He disappeared 20 minutes into the reception and I know for a fact that he’s a hair puller” Santana was slowly shaking her head. “You dirty. Little. Freak!” She was enjoying this way too much. “You let that boy wreck your weave?”

“I was distracted by other things at the time.”

“I bet you were” Santana drawled out the side of her mouth.

Defeated at knowing her secret hook-up stayed secret for less than 12 hours, Mercedes let out an almighty sigh and slumped against the side of her car. Santana sauntered over to lean next to her and took a gulp of her coffee. She was radiating a bit too much smugness for Mercedes’ liking.

They both stood, freezing their asses off, leaning against metal car doors in February and staring at the cars whizzing past on the main road.

*

After a while Santana took a long look at her out of the corner of her eye.

“LA’s been good for you.”

“Ha. Ha.” Mercedes deadpanned. She definitely didn’t need any more reminders that the big city had corrupted her in precisely the ways her Grandmother and Aunts had warned her about. She’d figured it out for herself when she ended up on her back after only the second date with that guy Tyler from her business class.

“I’m serious. You were always too good for this town. I’m glad you’ve ended up somewhere you were able to loosen up.”

Mercedes couldn’t exactly argue with that assessment. Between escaping the confusion of the on-again/off-again mess she had with Sam and finding a city full of guys more than happy to appreciate all of what she’s got, she had somehow found a surer centre of herself.

“So, you and… Quinn? How did that end up happening?”

“I don’t even know. One minute we’re swapping compacts in the ceremony and the next minute she’s quoting Gloria Steinem and putting her hands on me.” Mercedes opened her mouth but was pre-empted by “and this was _before_ we even made use of our fake IDs.” She was still debating on what that would even look like when Santana rolled her head and drawled, “What about you and Mike? I mean, where the fuck did that come from?”

Mercedes felt a pang of hurt, thinking maybe Santana meant why someone like Mike would go for someone like her. But watching her innocently blowing on her drink and cricking her neck made Mercedes think that Snix was in her cage and Santana really was just curious.

“I tried to look for Miss Pillsbury after she ran out but couldn’t find her. I saw Mike when I got to the reception and realised I didn’t really wanna be there.” She shrugged and hoped it came off as nonchalant. “He drove me home and I invited him in.”

“You just invited him in? Just like that?” Santana didn’t sound convinced.

She huffed. “I suspected he’d be _receptive_ to the idea.”

“Receptive?” That shit-eating grin was back.

“Fine. At a Graduation party last year, he got hard grinding on me. You happy now?”

“Wanky.” Dammit she missed this girl.

“If you squeal to Rachel or Kurt I swear to God…”

“Oh please, I could fill the Library of Congress with the shit I don’t tell them.” Santana paused slightly before she spoke again with just a hint of nervousness in her voice, “but same goes for me and Q, okay?”

“Sure,” she chuckled “I would not wanna cross Quinn.”

They finished their drinks and headed across the parking lot to throw away the empties.

“So it’s abs that do it for you, huh?”

“Girl, do you _want_ me to bring up the blonde factor?”

*

They got to the trashcan and tossed their drinks. Mercedes watched Santana frown at the drink she had gotten for Quinn – probably trying to work out if it was too cold to bother taking it back – when she couldn’t hold back her curiosity anymore. “You and Mike never…you know - right?” she blurted out.

“Hellz no. He never even tried to get up on this.” She wrinkled her nose up. “Pretty sure he guessed the gay thing before I did. Why’d you ask?”

“It’s just,” she quickly glanced round the parking lot. Hell, Mercedes was so embarrassed by this whole thing, “How did you know about the hair-pulling thing?”

Santana smirked again and Mercedes swore if she didn’t see that look for another ten years it would be too soon. “So it’s true, huh? Brittany likes to gab, plus Tina does all kinds of talking when she’s liquored up.”

“Oh God, Tina.” Mercedes groaned and hid her head in her hands.

“Tina is too busy chasing around a gay hobbit to worry about you and Mike.” Santana chuckled at her before she descended too far into a shame spiral. Her face must have looked a bit pained though because Santana added “I’m serious; we’re not children. No one’s cheating and no one’s lying. Tina will get over it.” She obviously made an executive decision on Quinn’s drink and threw it in as well. “At least you don’t have to face a hungover ‘morning-after’ Quinn. I’m kinda terrified. Is she gonna be Ice-Queen bitchy or is she going to want to talk about stuff?”

“You guys aren’t…” Santana frowned in confusion, “are you going to….”

“What, date? Oh **God** no.” Mercedes chuckled at that. “Can you even imagine? We’d murder each other.” There was a pause where Santana fidgeted with the car keys in her hands. “Maybe I messed up.”

“Oh hush. You and Quinn literally beat each other up in the hallways at school. This isn’t gonna stop you being friends.”

“Maybe. But Quinn will fight with anyone. Quinn and sex?…”

Even after six months of co-habitation and 3 years of almost friendship, Mercedes couldn’t claim to know a damn thing about the way Quinn’s brain worked but she knew enough about Santana’s deep-seated skittishness to know this happened because Quinn made it happen.

Santana was looking downright uncomfortable and Mercedes had seen her vulnerable enough times to know that the key was not to spook her.

“If you ask me, Quinn having sex because she _wants_ to and not because she thinks she has to… Plus if she stuck around until morning… I think you’re fine.” Santana looked happy enough with that answer and Mercedes was happy enough with her friend’s expression to believe that it actually was fine and she wasn’t going to have to deal with another Brittany-type mess.

They turned back and started to walk over to their cars.

“And you and Mike?”

“Mike and I live on opposite sides of the country.”

“Well that’s not an answer either way, is it now.” Mercedes set her jaw and was thinking of a statement to shut Santana up when she heard the girl bark with laughter next to her, “Easy girl, I’m just playing. That’s your business.”

Mercedes was hit with a wave of affection for the caustic bitch next to her. LA may have been good to her and she may have met all kinds of people that you’d never find in Lima but there was only one Santana Lopez. Mercedes was grateful to realise that the twisted, snarky sisterhood they’d carved out in senior year was still stored away for when she needed a unique perspective on life’s situations.

She surprised Santana by swinging her into an almighty bear hug just as she was turning towards her own car and squeezing tight. Santana was stiff with surprise at first but Mercedes whispered into her ear - as though all genuine affection between them should be somewhat concealed - “LA could always use another Troubletone and there is an amazing futon in my dorm-room.” Santana sank into the hug and when they pulled apart Mercedes could see her eyes were glassy. But she raked her nails through her hair and sniffed.

“It’s too early for this shit."

Mercedes phone buzzed angrily at her with a message from her stylist asking her if she was still coming to he appointment. Santana leaned forward to read the message.

“Does Andre have any clip-in packs of 18-inch Remy?”

“What am I, psychic? Stop stalling! Go and get another drink for Quinn then go and face the music.” Santana looked almost bashful at being caught out and pouted like a child. Mercedes just rolled her eyes. “Wanna meet at Kimmi’s later and get our nails done? You can obstinately _not_ tell me all about it.”

“ _Obstinately_?” asked with a questioning eyebrow.

“We didn’t all drop out of college, you know. Some of us are still learning.”

Santana smiled one of her rare, genuinely-amused smiles and stuck her tongue out between her teeth.

“Kimmi’s Palace at 4.00?” She skipped backwards towards her car, eyebrows waggling at Mercedes as she went.

“Get out of here.” Mercedes laughed unable to hide her own amusement. “And tell Quinn I said ‘Hi’” she hollered as Santana was sliding into her car.

“Yeah, like I’m really gonna tell her someone else knows about this.”

Mercedes slipped into the driver’s seat and smiled as she signalled out of The Lima Press lot. She knew the miracles Andre could perform; removing her hair and reinstalling it in under 3 hours. She calculated that if she was meeting Santana at 4.00, then there would be plenty of time to invite Mike around at lunchtime. She’d just have to make sure his hands were otherwise engaged this time.

 

 


End file.
